Dinner Guest #15 - Ms. K. and Little K.

My Easter started off a little rough. 

The kids ran into our bedroom at 6:30 am singing in birthday style,

“Happy Easter to You!”

While cute, I think I would have appreciated the serenade better around 8:00 am.  Regardless, we immediately dove into the Easter baskets and egg hunt.  It wasn’t long before Rock (3) was eating chocolate covered peeps for breakfast, Jack (5) was biting the head off a chocolate bunny, and Kate (7) was crying that she didn’t get as much candy and money as her brothers. 

Not feeling very sympathetic, I ignored her and hurriedly got everyone showered and dressed for church.  While brushing Kate’s hair into a bun, I reluctantly listened to her complain how the Easter Bunny did not give her what she wanted. 

“Why didn’t the Easter Bunny give me one chapter book?”

At church, I found a little peace from the talks and music, but during the drive home, Kate started up again, bemoaning her Easter basket and its disappointments.  I so wanted to yell,

“THERE IS NO EASTER BUNNY!  I AM THE EASTER BUNNY AND YOU ARE HURTING MY FEELINGS YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!”

But, I kept it all inside and simply asked Kate to stop complaining.  I told her to keep her thoughts to herself--that she was making me sad.  Lucky for her, and me, she stopped.

My mood spent the rest of the afternoon under a poor-me grey cloud, not really wanting dinner guests, but not willing to cancel either on our kind friends:  Ms. K. and her daughter, little K.

I met Ms. K. at church and have the opportunity to visit her monthly as part of the “Visiting Teaching” program.  Some of the ladies I’m assigned to visit won’t answer my calls, my texts, or even their front door, so I appreciate Ms. K.’s willingness to let me come over occasionally and talk her ear off.  I admire so many things about her.  She’s a dedicated, hard-working mom raising a beautiful daughter all by herself.  She takes really good care of her hair, nails, makeup, and dresses with style.  I schlep around town too often in exercise clothes and a baseball cap, but someday, I hope to be polished like Ms. K.

Sticking with American Easter tradition, I served ham--a big, eight-pound, spiral-cut, $20 ham from Costco that I unfortunately warmed too long in the oven and dried out into ham jerky.  Regardless, we all ate a fair share of the beast and my kids asked for seconds and thirds.  I also served au gratin potatoes, parmesan rolls, and grapes.  Ms. K. brought a delicious spinach salad. 

For dessert, we ended Ryan’s birthday week celebration with a coconut cake soaked tres leches-style in a mixture of sweetened condensed milk and coconut milk.  The cake was a slight disappointment, but Ryan got his annual birthday song, the kids played with waxy, lit candles, and for the next six months, I will feel less of a cougar as my husband and I will only be two years apart in age.

Sunday dinner with Ms. K. and little K. turned my bad mood right around.  I always find it ironic that in down moments, when I just want to be left alone, it’s the company of friends that brings me out of the funk.  After Ms. K and little K. left, I actually liked Kate again. 

The Easter Bunny façade is safe for another year.

And next time, he’ll put a chapter book in Kate’s basket.